


Of Frozen Crystal and Liquid Words

by ertrunkener_Wassergeist



Series: Crystal Verse [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Magic, Mentions of Destruction, Mentions of Funerals, Nyx and boredom are not a good combination, Rated T for swearing, Tumblr Prompt, this is full of headcanons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26565970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ertrunkener_Wassergeist/pseuds/ertrunkener_Wassergeist
Summary: Trapped in a world of endless blue after donning the Ring of the Lucii, Nyx Ulric does not know what to do. His time is spent floating through the nothingness, feeling ever watched, only interrupted by flashes of awareness through his physical body, which has been turned to crystal. It is a monotone, exrcutiating existance.Until the moment a voice starts speaking to him, that is.
Relationships: pre Cor Leonis/Nyx Ulric
Series: Crystal Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1883437
Comments: 12
Kudos: 67





	Of Frozen Crystal and Liquid Words

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> This is the continuation of Of Will and Defiance. This time from Nyx' POV.  
> Hope you all have fun!
> 
> Stay safe.

Nyx Ulric was not aware of his body – at least not continuously. It came to him in starts and flashes, the feeling of being solid, of being unable to move, being frozen. It was a disconcerting feeling, and Nyx Ulric hated it.

For all that the sensation of weightlessness and immaterialness was equally disconcerting, he thought he preferred it. As a soul, held into a human form by memory, habit and sheer spite, he could move for one, even when his surroundings were just empty blue glowing spaces. There were others here, he could sense it, could remember the roar of a hundred different voices, but now it was like they were behind a one way mirror. Able to see and hear him, but not the other way around.

Maybe this was worse than the feeling of cold crystal instead of warm flesh and light instead of blood, after all.

Frozen to crystal, light and magic as it was, it seemed like his soul did not quite _fit_ anymore. Like ill fitting armour. Every time he caught another flash of _crystal-cold-frozenfrozenfrozen_ , it was like he didn't quite fit... _inside_.

For a long time this was it – though Nyx Ulric would not have been able to say how long a time it actually was. Floating in a blue nothingness with bursts of awareness in the physical world.

It was a lonely existence. Nyx Ulric would have preferred death over this. To go beyond the Gate to where his ancestors were watching and waiting. There at least, he wouldn't be so heart achingly alone.

Until the day – night? - he heard a voice, that was.

“... asked them for you to be brought here. This is a better view, I would think, than the crumbled houses on the square.” A snort. “If you can still call it that, reduced to rubble as it is. You left behind quite the impressive crator.”

Who...?

Within the next moment he was gone from his ill fitting crystal body, and for the very first time, he truly _raged_ within the empty blue space, with all the power a human soul held within its grasp.

Time was a strange thing. Sometimes it seemed to pass within the blink of an eye, and other times not at all. Mostly, Nyx Ulric's only indication that time was passing at all, and not suspended and

frozen like his physical form, were the flashes of the physical realm he experienced.

For the longest time he had felt nothing but cold crystal and frozen light, the buzz of magic hooked beneath his skin, which connected him to his body. All of that was still there each time the

connection strengthened like it was a heartbeat of its own, but now...

Nyx Ulric was too exhausted to do anything other than drift after raging against the sheer unfairness of it all. All the power he had thrown around, had dissipated between the floating trails of light,

having achieved nothing. It left him feeling bereft and unsatisfied.

Without anything else to do, his thoughts circled back to the voice he had heard. Now that he the shock and rage had tapered off some, he was convinced it had sounded familiar. He knew that voice, however he couldn't say from where. Ever since coming here – being dragged here – his memories had been a right mess.

His name was Nyx of Clan Ulric, one of the Galahkari, a hunter and warrior. He remembered being three and listening to the voices of his parents as they told a story by the hearth, he remembered being eight and teaching his little sister – Selena, three years younger – how to measure tea leaves into a pot. He remembered being nine and going into the jungle to earn himself a Clan Name, too young and full of fear and determination, he remembered being fourteen and climbing down an old trail of the canyon with his best friend – Libertus of Clan Ostium, always there by his side since he was born – to prove something.

There were knives in his hand, blood pounding in his ears, as a humanoid being encased in rattling armour and with glowing red eyes came shambling towards him. There was the feeling of heat clawing over his skin, the feeling of nausea as magic – foreign, shattering glass, sharp, cutting cutting _cutting_ – dug into his very being for the first time.

A face, blond hair and spine of silk clad steel... Her Highness? Oracle. Lunafreya. A ring, heavy and cold, blood and pain and desperation. _This is the only way out._ Betrayal.

What had happened? The more recent the memory, the more jumbled it all got.

Nyx Ulric drifted and tried to piece back his memory of how he had come to be here, until-

A tug, a lurch, the feeling of immovable crystal and cold light.

“... mostly out of the city, we think. We have not been able to move the Crystal from where it fell – luckily still within the city limits and undamaged. There have been voices calling to see if your body would have similar effects to it. I have been shutting them down. You have done more than enough for us. You deserve to rest.”

If Nyx Ulric had still had a beating heart, it would have rattled against his ribcage right now. Instead something in his soul _rippled_. _I am here_ , he tried to say. _I am listening!_

The voice continued talking as if he hadn't heard nor felt Nyx Ulric's attempt to communicate. Instead of trying further, Nyx Ulric greedily absorbed every single word spoken, like it was the most precious thing in the world. And maybe that was what they were to him now.

“There is also a bit of good news. Well, not quite but it is something: Pelna Khara has been found. Alive. He was only half a step away from death's door and is now in a coma, but his condition has grown stable. I think you would have wanted to know that.”

A short silence followed, in which Nyx Ulric tried to move his too still body, to see, to do _something_. Nothing was working. Unable to do anything, he just floated there, halfway in his ill-fitting body, halfway outside of it.

“Your friend Libertus Ostium gave me this. He said it is your favourite. I have not tried it, it brings bad fortune to take from an offering, but it smells delicious.”

The faint sound of something liquid hitting the ground could be heard. Had the voice just poured blue rose tea on the ground? Nyx Ulric had no idea if he should be thankful for the gesture or appalled at the waste.

“I have to leave for now. There is much to do and Noctis' retrieval party will arrive soon.”

_No!_

Nyx Ulric wanted to scream. _Don't go! Don't leave me_ -

A snap, a lurch, and all he could see was the endless blue.

This time he did not rage. There was only a deep seated resignation and sadness. Why was he here? What had he done to deserve this? If he could, Nyx Ulric thought he would have cried. Whatever this place was, it must be worse than Pitioss.

He drifted, with no real understanding where up and down were, left and right. There was just blue and light and him. It was lonely, it made him crave for human contact, but at this time the flashes of a voice speaking were more torture than anything else. What use were they, if he could not _interact_?

Nyx Ulric was so occupied by his thoughts that, at first, he didn't notice the floating ribbons of light coming closer. They had always been there, but at a distance, something that moved in an unseen, unfelt current and danced out of the way when he came close. Now they were close enough to touch.

He blinked, surprised and curious and willing to take any distraction that presented itself. Slowly, he stretched out his hand, and one of the light ribbons came closer. Were they alive? It brushed along what looked like skin but was actually the surface of his soul. Where they came into contact, both the ribbon and him started to shimmer in all colours imaginable.

Nyx Ulric moved his not-really-there mouth in an unheard gasp of astonishment and wonder. This felt like... like Lucis Caelum magic. There was the feeling of _shattering glass cutting sharp_ , but it was also different. A sensation like a tingling crystal chime took the edge off the cutting sharpness it held. It was overwhelming, so powerful it nearly drowned him and yet it almost felt like an apology.

The Crystal.

Was he-?

Was this-?

With a soundless yelp that rippled through his soul, he jerked back. The ribbon of light danced around him, close but not quite touching. In the far corner of his mind he was thankful for that, the rest of him wanted to curl up somewhere safe and grieve, or go out and murder something. Nothing of this was an option, so he did the other most human thing he could do: he blended everything else out and let his curiosity take over.

That ribbon had felt like Lucis Caelum magic but not. Older, with so much more pressure behind it, but less sharp in exchange. Despite his jumbled memories of recent events, Nyx Ulric was very sure he had died. Was this the Lucian afterlife? But if it was, why was he here instead of behind the Gate? It didn't make any sense. He had worn that fancy magic ring, yes, but... the ring. The ring was part of the Crystal, right? At least he thought that was how the story went.

The ribbon of light brushed against him as if by accident. Nyx Ulric jerked as a bolt of raw magic rippled through his soul. He silently cursed the thing as it continued to dance around him. Why hadn't it returned to the rest of its... comrades yet? After this one had first touched him, they had returned to dancing in an unseen and unfelt current.

With pursed lips he steeled himself and grabbed the ribbon of light. This time he was more prepared for the power that made lights of all colours spark where they touched. It was difficult to judge its size, as it was always moving and seemed to change length and width continuously. He leaned closer as its movements slowed down a bit, and saw that the thing was actually made out of many thinner strands of whatever it was.

_What by all the spirits of Galahd are you?_

There was a faint sound like a tingling wind chime made out of glass or crystal, and the image of a tiny reflection of light on blueish crystal settled behind his eyes.

Nyx Ulric did a double take, his non existing heart racing. Had that ribbon thing just _answered_? Was it _sentient_?

_Hey, you._

He did his best to push the thought towards the ribbon.

The only answer he got to that was a worm like wriggle. Trying to stamp down on his disappointment, he concentrated back on all the tiny strands this thing was made out of. Could he unravel it like the individual strands of a rope? Only one way to find out. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.

With deft hands – fingers flecked in translucent rainbow colours everywhere they touched the ribbon – he started to pick the strands apart. At first the ribbon seemed like it wanted to escape, if it even wanted something, but then it just went still. The magical power was still making his soul ripple like the surface of a pond, and they still sparked colours at the points of contact, but this new development was strangely disconcerting. Like it should never have happened.

Nyx Ulric just shrugged after a few seconds of contemplation, and continued with what he had been doing. What was the worst thing that could happen? He was basically dead already.

He gave a silent cry of triumph when he finally held a single strand in his hands. It not quite as thin as a human hair, floaty and weightless. The most interesting thing about it however, was the colour. It was a nice, rich blue that reminded him of the sea around Galahd. A twinge of pain rippled through him at the reminder with a sudden, furious bout of homesickness.

The blue strand caressed his fingers, gentle droplets of magic rippling up his arm. It wasn't that there was less power behind it, it just moved differently. There was an implication here. One Nyx Ulric didn't feel ready to think about quite yet, so he picked the other strands apart until the ribbon was gone and he had a colourful array floating around him.

Reds and blues and greens and browns and yellows and purples and whites and blacks and everything in between. It was fascinating and Nyx Ulric had no idea what to do with that. He was just so glad that there were now other colours than endless blue to look at. He was just about to ponder what to do with all the strands now that he had them, when he felt the magic hooked into his soul jerk him back to his too solid and unmoving body.

At first the only thing he could hear was a bird chirping way too close to his ear. That was his ear, right? He could not quite tell. The soul of Nyx Ulric squirmed, endlessly uncomfortable in its position in a body that did not fit, no matter how much he tried to twist himself into it.

The crunch of nearing footsteps on fallen leaves made him perk up. Was the voice back?

“Good evening, Nyx,” the voice said after a long bout of silence, in which Nyx Ulric had started to worry he had just imagined the sound.

_Hey_ , he thought back even though he knew it would go unheard.

A tired sigh. “Your friend is really good at getting people to do what they should. He practically screamed at a group unwilling to do their share of the work, vanished for half an hour and brought back a huge barrel of beer. Said they could drink as much as they wanted of it, as soon as they finished work. It worked, somehow.”

That sounded like Libertus, alright.

“It makes me really embarrassed to call myself Insomnian when it is the refugees, those who were called useless, a burden and a blight on our city, who do most of the work without complaining. I never quite realized how entitled the citizens of Insomnia were, even though I... no, that's not important. I really should not complain. Least of all to you.”

_No, no, continue. I want to hear this_ , Nyx Ulric thought.

The voice didn't. Instead the male person, whoever he was, shifted focus.

“Noctis finally made it back into the city a few days ago. He was... it wasn't pretty. The poor boy. Regis never wanted this for him. But now here we are and Regis' leniency with Noctis came back to bite us in the ass. I always argued he should do more to prepare his son for his future reign, but it fell on deaf ears every single time.” A short pause. “Something in that group is going to give soon. They're all still practically kids with no true experience, suddenly burdened with the responsibility of keeping a crumbling kingdom afloat.”

This was not really what Nyx Ulric wanted to hear, but it gave him precious hints of who the voice talking to him was. He knew the dead King well enough to call him simply by name, saw Noctis as a child and not only as a prince become king. A noble most likely. Was that where he knew the voice from? But which one of them would lower themselves to talking to a Galahkar?

Most of them had convinced themselves that Galahd and its people were beneath their notice, because otherwise they would have had to admit their own failings where the island nation was concerned.

“... finally have proof that Aldercapt is dead.”

_Wait, what?_

“Apparently he was in the flight craft that was towing the Crystal out of Insomnia. Serves that old worm right. I have no idea what you did, Nyx, but you have my eternal gratitude and that of every single person in Lucis.”

The voice sounded too damned grateful when he said those words, it made Nyx Ulric squirm in discomfort. Princess Lunafreya's face flashed in front of him, tired and pale, but also determined and willing to do what must be done. He had put on the ring to defend her, he suddenly remembered. To spare her the consequences her brother had faced, to protect the future she was willing to give everything for.

The voice was saying more, but Nyx Ulric felt the claws of magic pull him back into the endless blue. This time it only warranted in irritated huff. He was getting used to being forcibly jerked out of the only conversation he was able to have in this state.

Around him, the individual strands of colour. Magic. Light. Whatever. Were still there, though they had started to merge back into the glowing white ribbon. With more force than necessary, Nyx Ulric untangled the strands again and then paused, wondering what to do with them.

“ _You know, why the fuck don't you do it then? You already seem to know how to with all that unhelpful commentary,”_ Crowe's voice echoed through his head.

She had been teaching herself how to spin, and after Nyx had opened his mouth one too many times, she had practically shoved the spinning wheel into his arms and him out the door. Unwilling to admit defeat, he had actually taught himself how to spin during that winter. He was not the best by far, but by the end of it, he was able to produce an even thread without too many bumps in it.

Speculatively, he eyed the floating strands around him. Could he spin them into a thread? On one hand he had no spinning wheel, and it had been years since he had done it. On the other hand he had all the time in the world to figure this out. Better try to spin weird coloured magic strands into thread that be bored out of his mind, right?

The ever present silence was his answer. Nyx Ulric took the lack of protest as a yes.

It was actually pretty fun to do this, he decided after an indeterminable amount of time, if quite frustrating at times. At first the strands would unravel every few what he assumed to be minutes, until he learned to twist them just _so_. He was quite proud of himself for figuring this out.

Next came the literally explosive realization that some colours did not go well together. Like green and purple. Nyx Ulric had just wanted to know what that looked like and as a result got violently blown into another area of the blue nothingness. It had been frustrating work to find all his strands again, and his fledgeling thread had unravelled as a consequence, yet again.

The obvious solution here was to try it again. So he took the green and purple strands, went a bit further away and tried to spin them together. The outcome was the same as the first time around. Nyx Ulric actually wished he had something to write down notes with. This was actually shaping up to be really interesting.

Which was, of course, when he was punted into his body again. For the first time since hearing the voice, he rather wanted to go back to his spinning project. The image of the face his soul projected, settled into a pout.

But the moment he heard the voice, all those thoughts went right out the window. Because the voice was singing. It sounded amateurish, like he did not do this often or had any experience with it, but it still made Nyx Ulric's throat close up with emotion.

_You are the ocean's grey waves, destined to seek_

_Life beyond the shore, just out of reach_

_Yet the waters ever change, flowing like time_

_The path is yours to climb._

Nyx Ulric listened, absolutely captivated, as the voice sung in an accent of Lucian he had never heard before. It was over way too quickly.

Then there was silence for a long while.

“It's a wonder I even know the lyrics anymore, it has been such a long time,” the voice said eventually. “I hope it didn't bother you, Nyx. Normally I don't sing much.”

_It didn't bother me at all. Please continue. You have such a lovely singing voice,_ Nyx Ulric wanted to say, but right now the words reached no one but himself.

“Sometimes I even miss it, the village I was born in. I'm sure you never heard of it. We were very cut off from the rest of Lucis, behind the northern mountains of Duscae. There are no Havens on the way there, so people rarely dared to make the journey by land, and we were just far enough away from the sea, to not have much contact with those who came by ship either. There are days I want to hit my younger self over the head for how stupid he was with attempting the journey through the mountains.” A hoarse chuckle. “I did a lot of stupid shit back then.”

Now Nyx Ulric really wanted to invite the man the voice belonged to, to tea and fumir and just exchange stories. He really hoped Libertus would do it for him.

“Did you know that the people to the very north of Duscae tell themselves stories about a drowned city? The original story has been lost long ago, but people say this song was a part of it.”

Suddenly there was the sound of approaching footsteps and another voice spoke up: “Marshal, I have been looking for you.”

Marshal? As in Cor Leonis, _the Marshal_? Ahtrii, not only had his body been turned to crystal, but the bloody Marshal was the person talking to him. Pitioss, the man could _sing_!

“Ah, Ignis. Is it time?”

“The ceremony for the funerals is to begin in half an hour. I think His Majesty could use a word of encouragement from someone that is not...”

“You are doing a very fine job, Ignis. Never doubt that.”

“Thank you, Marshal,” Ignis said, though to the ears of Nyx Ulric, he didn't sound terribly convinced.

He thought he remembered Ignis. Tall, sandy blond hair and glasses. Always speaking in a proper high-Insomnian accent. Ignis was a driven young man and damn wicked with a pair of knives in his hands.

Before he could ponder this further and wonder whose funerals they were talking about, he was dragged back into the endless blue. This time he gave in to his impulses, curled up, face in his hands and gave a quiet scream.

Holy fuck. _Holy fucking fuck._

This could not be real. How was this his life? Or not-life? Meh, whatever. Semantics. The point was Cor bloody Leonis was talking to the crystallized body of Nyx Ulric. Why? He had no fucking clue. But he wanted to know, badly. Not that anything he wanted was of relevance anymore.

Nyx Ulric stayed curled up like that for a long time. He may sometimes feel like a hundred pairs of eyes were staring at him, but he did not give a single fuck right now. Instead, after he felt like his brain would not go into another meltdown when he attempted to move, he chose to concentrate on his spinning project, as he had come to think of it. That was better than trying to figure out Cor Leonis of all people.

After a few more times of catapulting himself all across the endless blue via explosive magic-colour strands, he thought he had it figured out pretty well.

Black, red and white liked to bundle up together, but only if red was in the middle. Otherwise black and white did not connect all that well. Same was with gold and black. It was really weird. Nyx Ulric got the impression that black hated gold's guts but tolerated it for some reason, but white and gold got along like a house on fire. Once he had connected those two, there was no separating them. Blue could make nice with all colours. It was like it was mimicking them to some extend, or absorbing some of their qualities, he wasn't too sure. Purple on the other hand was really picky and only went together with black and blue while the sickly yellowish green went pretty well with black or blue and the deep pine green connected to white and gold nearly as well as they did to each other. Brown was a bit of an outlier. It was not temperamental like purple, but only really connected to either black and green, and even that not overly well. So since there were no other options, brown hung loosely off the deep pine green strand.

In between his discoveries he would listen to Cor talk when he got dragged back into his body. It was disconcerting at first, knowing that the person baring his heart to him, was Cor Leonis. And the man didn't even know that he was listening. But with each new visit he grew to appreciate the man behind the title more and more.

He was a kind man with a heart of gold and a love for all things sharp. Nyx once got to listen to a lecture about most of the swords Cor had collected over the years – spirits, that man was such a nerd. It as endearing though. And wasn't that like a punch in the gut during a fun bar fight? Realizing that he actually, truly, _liked_ Cor Leonis?

That man was funny in his own awkward way. He worried constantly over the new King and the young man's relationship with his Shield, how they were all taking the pressure and expectations, what Niflheim was up to and the vanishing of Chancellor Izunia.

This gave Lucis the chance to rebuild and recuperate, but it was still worrying.

In the end Nyx Ulric decided that if he ever got out of his... predicament, he would give Cor a hug, kiss the man senseless and then invite him out for a beer. Favourably something Libertus had brewed. Satisfied with his plan, he went back to wondering what he should do with his newly finsihed thread.

It was longer than expected and of the colours, white and gold were the most prominent. Maybe he could get his hands on another light ribbon-thingy? And as if someone had heard his thoughts, one of said ribbons split off from the rest. It twisted around the colourful thread, as if curious. Well, that answered that question.

It didn't take him nearly as long to make the second thread, though now he had two and no idea what to do with them. He had no real idea how to weave or do any other fibre craft other than sewing. He watched as the threads slowly twisted around each other like they were a strand of DNA. (Yes Crowe, he knew what a DNA strand was, he had paid attention in school.)

Nyx Ulric watched, fascinated, as magic sparked between them. The power of it caused the edges of his vision to flicker. It was like a feedback loop, and Nyx Ulric knew he would not be able to separate these two threads, even if he wanted to.

The power built and built and _built_ and the colours shone brighter and brighter, until all Nyx Ulric could see was a blinding, pulsing cacophony. The tension in the air grew so tight, he thought he could hear an audible _snap_ when all the power rushed out in one big surge.

For a moment Nyx Ulric felt like liquid power was melting into his veins.

Then, nothing.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo...  
> Pelna is alive! Yay!  
> Aldercapt is dead! Yay!  
> And Ardyn has fucked off to who knows where. Poor Crowe stays dead, though.  
> Nyx, please stop poking at weird magic stuff just because you're bored and the Crystal that trapped you, is indulging you. -.-  
> The lyrics Cor sings here are from a Song called Lost in Thoughts All Alone from Fire Emblem Fates. Cor's VA Matt Mercer sings it, which sparked the idea of Cor singing in the first place. And the song is really good, for all that Mercer is apparently a novice when it comes to singing.  
> Special thanks to sileneschoenkind for giving me this idea and showing me the song. And once again thank you to IgnisFelicis for giving me this prompt. It's a hella lot of fun to write.  
> Thank you all for reading and you're all welcome to comment, send kudos and poke me over on tumblr. (under ertrunkenerwassergeist.tumblr)


End file.
